Cracked
by googleurname
Summary: A series of crack pairings. I will take requests.
1. Wendy x Randy

Pairing: Wendy x Randy

Request from: Me.. hehe :D

Disclaimer: Don't own.

Wendy furiously knocked on the door of the Marsh household before straightening the alignment of her lemon skirt. She broadened her shoulders confidently and waited for her boyfriend of five weeks to answer the door for their date. This is ridiculous, she thought to herself. They had agreed to meet at Stark's Pond 15 minutes prior to this, and Stan had yet to appear. It was one of the two things Wendy hated most in the world: being belittled because of her age, and tardiness.

The door slowly opened, revealing a man who appeared to be in his fourties. He had the same tousled black hair and blueberry irises as her boyfriend. He flashed a sideways, breathtaking smirk at the girl admirably.

He extended his hand forward before greeting, "You must be Wendy. I'm Stan's dad."

He said my name, Wendy thought mesmerized. She was infatuated with the way it rolled off of his tongue soothingly and caressed her eardrums with pleasure. His warm eyes, accompanied with crow's feet, stared at her warmly.

"Wendy." She blurted out awkwardly, grabbing his firm hand with hers timidly as her face was painted a light shade of crimson. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Marsh."

"No!" He said urgently. Wendy's mouth opened slightly, appalled by the thought of offending her newfound crush somehow. "Call me Randy. Mr. Marsh makes me sound like I'm old." He stated.

Wendy smiled uneasily, not sure of what to think or say to the man who had unexpectedly stolen her breath away from her. She eyed him up and down, a small grin spreading ear-to-ear.

"Hey, Sharon!" Randy called suddenly. "Stan's girlfriend is here."

Sharon? Who is this Sharon? Thought Wendy, horrified.

Almost immediately walked in a woman with the same nose and eyes of her boyfriend. She also wore the same brand of coat as him and wore her hair short and cropped. She stood beside the doorway by Randy looking at Wendy admirably.

"How cute!" She cooed. "I love it when little kids 'date.' It's just adorable!" She glanced at Wendy with a large smile and squinted eyes, but the only look she receive was one of detest.

"I'm not a little kid." Wendy protested angrily. Who the hell does she think she is? First she steals my man and then insults me?

Suddenly, Stan began running down the stairs, grabbing his coat from the coat rack. He smiled at his girlfriend joyously before walking outside and shutting the door in front of his parents' faces. The ebony-haired boy grabbed the hand of his absent-minded girlfriend.

Thougts of knives, ropes, and other various weapons flooded her mind.

"Stan?" She asked. "What time does your mom go to sleep at night?"


	2. KyleClyde

Pairing: Kyle/Clyde

Request from: HighOffOfSouthPark

Additional Requests (Optional): Kyle and Clyde come out to their high school.

Disclaimer: Matt and Trey's, yo.

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><p>Kyle drummed the tip of his pencil against his desk anxiously.<p>

Clyde rested his shoulders on his desk, running both of his pallid hands through his chestnut hair.

The two boys then shifted their eyes toward the clock which mockingly pointed out that there was only 1 pitiful minute until lunch.

Lunch. A seemingly joyous occasion that occurred once a day approximately 45 minutes long. A time period in which each student that attended South Park High could spend laughing, eating, or reminiscing of past events with their fellow friends. And certainly not the appropriate place where two seemingly straight teenage males come out about their secret, ongoing, homosexual relationship.

_Fuck_, Kyle thought while glancing at Clyde. The fifteen-year-old boy was biting his lower lip in anticipation, now completely ignoring the teacher who was explaining the wonders of Integrated Algebra. Small beads of sweat formed atop of Clyde's forehead just below his hairline. His eyes, glimmering orbs of hazel, searched the room in stress. His teeth tugged on his lower lip a final time before Kyle noticed a peculiar amount of moistness appearing from underneath his irises. _Fuck…_

Finally, the agonizing bell rang, its sounds apparently shattering the eardrums of both Clyde and Kyle. Sixteen pairs of legs rose and made rushed their way out of the cramped classroom. Two of the students remained the classroom, taking their precious time before arising from their miniscule desks. And finally, the taller and leaner of the two made his way over to his thick companion. They slowly exited the classroom - closely. Too close. The teacher eyed them up and down, lowering her glasses and raising an eyebrow.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Kyle whispered into Clyde's ear compassionately as they walked throughout the currently bare hallways of their high school.

"No," Clyde admitted before swallowing an imaginary knot in his throat. "But let's do it anyway."

Despite his excruciating anxiety, Kyle actually managed to chuckle at his boyfriend's uncertainty.

The two boys walked to the cafeteria in silence; Knife-cutting, tension-filled silence. They continued to walk intimately close, their hands briefly touching occasionally. The sporadic contact between their fingers was enough teasing to perturb them notably, but neither of them actually took it as far as to hold the other's hand. They hadn't officially come out yet; it just wasn't right - yet.

When they arrived at the crowded cafeteria, Kyle could hear the irregular pants coming from Clyde's strained throat. The jade eyes met the apprehensive, hazel ones swimming with insecurity. Kyle's expression was one of comfort and reassurance. And suddenly, Clyde was fine. He was perfectly content, and then -

"Everyone!" Kyle called. "I'd like -" He looked at Clyde, who's face had suddenly drained of color. "I'd like to make an announcement."

All of the giggles and loud chatter surrounding them in the cafeteria had hushed completely. Everyone seemed to be frozen, all pairs of eyes locked on the two boys who were caught with their pants down. Clyde's tear ducts were starting to become active and his throat became strained. He swallowed again. _Please, please don't cry_, he told himself.

"We're -" Kyle began again, uneasily. "Gay."

All of the eyes which were temporarily locked on them seemed to widen. They even recalled a few mouths drop open in revolted shock. The quietness, seemingly horrible before, had escalated into severe silence.

Then, the laughter started.

The sickening, obnoxiously loud laughter of one Eric Cartman.

"I KNEW IT!" He shrieked, his voice raspy from the hilarity. "I ALWAYS KNEW KYLE WAS A FAG!"

His cries of laughter were soon joined by a few other measly giggles from a scarce amount of unknown students. Some of their other peers, disinterested, turned their backs and went back to eating their meals. However, about a handful of students left their seats and approached the two.

The realization of what Kyle and Clyde had just done hit them like a brick._ Did we really just do that?_ Kyle thought to himself. The realization hit them so hard that the following events went by quickly as if they were a blur.

"Dude!" Stan Marsh exclaimed, confronting Kyle. "How could you not tell me you were gay?"

"How could you not like me, Kyle?" Kenny questioned. "I mean, I'm way hotter than Clyde! He's kind of fat and cries too much."

"Good for you both!" Wendy Testaburger said, smiling at them both.

Not shortly after, Craig and Those Guys approached them.

"Clyde, are you actually, you know, gay?" Craig questioned, his eyes burning into Clyde's.

Clyde could only nod.

"Sick!" They all shrieked in unison, faces painted with repulsed expressions. They shook their heads in disappointment as they walked off sadly.

Clyde's heart skipped a beat as his eyes fell towards his feet. Beats of sweat formed underneath his straight hairline as he loosened the grip of the neck of his coat. Kyle placed an arm over his back, attempting to comfort him as his misery increased.

"Let's get out of here." The Jewish boy whispered passionately into his ear.

The two boys scurried off, sweaty hands interlocked, and busted through the doors of the boys' bathroom. Clyde quickly paced to the back wall of the room, leaning his back against the wall and sliding down to the floor.

"They all hate me." The boy said, tears slipping down his peaked face

"They don't hate you!" Kyle argued, placing a finger over the tear and wiping it into nothingness. "They just need time to - adjust." He concluded awkwardly.

Clyde nodded miserably before the lips of his boyfriend met his into a romantic, passionate reunion. It was simple; tender. Kyle pulled away, much to Clyde's dismay.

"It feels.. _right_ finally being able to do that at school." He noted while grinning. Clyde nodded urgently while gripping the coat of Kyle and pulling him forward. Their lips met again for a second time, this time with much more force and need. Kyle smirked in the middle of the kiss, surprised of Clyde's newfound confidence. However this time, it was Clyde who pulled away.

"I love you," He said, staring directly into Kyle's jade eyes. Kyle enthusiastically returned the look, his eyes speaking for him.

Despite what their friends might have believed, their genders were completely irrelevant to themselves. They were two boys who loved each other; and to them, that was perfectly fine.


	3. Cartman x Henrietta

Wow, can I just say that I was deathly afraid to log in to fanfiction because I got banned from Yahoo and my e-mail got disabled? Haha, damn, so glad this still works. Also, I'd like to make it clear that I unfortunately can't do every request that is asked of me. I wish I could, but some pairings I just find hard to write and I sometimes just don't have the time. Don't take offense though. :(. And sometimes I won't upload by whoever reviews first. I just generally write whatever pairing I feel like writing at the moment.

Pairing: Cartman x Henrietta

Request from: Nixi Rose

Disclaimer: I think it's pretty obvious that Matt & Trey would never write fanfiction. But whatever, I guess I'll have to disclaim this shit for now.

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><p>Cartman stepped inside of Tom Johannsen's ice cream parlor confidently, a wadded up ten dollar bill in his pudgy right hand. Sure, it was mostly a hangout for adults, but it had ice cream nonetheless. The feet of the teenager stepped forward, exchanging steps as he glanced around nonchalantly. He stared at the people, laughing and licking the scoops of their ice cream joyously. He knew all of them, yet he found it slightly embarrassing that out of all of the people there, he was the only one that ate Mr. Johannsen's ice cream daily. <em>Whatever<em>, he thought. There was absolutely nothing that would get in the way of him and his Chocolaty Custard Yum Yum Supreme.

The boy took another step forward and sat down at the front bar, his eyes staring directly in front of him while trying to ignore the judgmental gazes. _Isn't enough that my friends call me fat at school?_ He considered._ Now their parents have to critic me too_. It wasn't until he heard a cough that his eyes widened in fear - a youthful cough; a teenager's cough. Fears of the possible insults that could emerge from the students' lips grabbed a hold of Eric's heart with sturdy fingers, preventing it from beating. His eyes casually unlocked from the front of the room, glancing at the student's bowl. A Chocolaty Custard Yum Yum Supreme.

His eyes levitated from the bowl and landed on a girl. A girl with spiky, midnight hair, a tight black corset, and tight fishnets with a slight layer of fat poking out from each individual hole. Her eyes, tired and lonely, were also somehow black in color - or perhaps just a dark, dark brown. She looked familiar to him - they attended the same high school. Her lips, accompanied with a heavy black gloss, were wrinkled._ Wrinkled_, the boy thought._ She's only my age_. Ironically, the dejected girl brought a spoonful of the bright, delectable treat into her mouth.

He considered acknowledging her, perhaps even commenting on how they shared the same taste. He soon decided against it, still in a thought of fear. Mr. Johannsen walked over to the teenager, smiling widely.

"Why, hello, Eric," He beamed through his wrinkled and friendly eyes. "The same as usual?"

Eric looked at him back, nodding. How he longed to be able to smile like him; to actually be happy. However, it was hard to be happy if you were Eric.

Tom Johannsen walked over to the refrigerator, pulling out the supplies necessary to create the delectable dessert. He scooped the vanilla ice cream out perkily, remembering to give the boy three extra scoops because that's the way he liked it. He then drizzled some custard and chocolate substance atop of it and placed a spoon inside the bowl.

"Enjoy!" He said smiling once again before walking away in order to treat the next customer who walked in.

Eric picked up his spoon, ready to indulge in the ice cream. He retreated a spoonful and brought it to his lips, only to be interrupted.

"If you tell anyone I come here, I'll kill you." The girl dressed in black said, her body suddenly turned towards him.

This surprised Cartman. _A freaking girl? Telling _me_ what to do?_

"Same goes for you, bitch." He spat, returning to his ice cream. The two sat in silence for awhile, nursing their bowls.

"I mean it," The girl continued. "If someone found out I came here, I'd die. I'm not just some conformist, Britney Spears wannabe." She put her spoon down, resting her elbow on the counter and resting her cheek upon her hand.

"Then who are you?" Eric challenged.

"Henrietta?" She said pretentiously.

"So you do have a name." He said, bringing another spoonful to his mouth.

"Everyone has a name, dickwad." She noted, exhaling a large breath, exaggerating her boredom.

"Isn't that conformist, then?"

Her eyes enlarged. "Touché." She said through her raspy voice, raising an eyebrow.

"And what about this?" He asked, pointing towards her bowl of ice cream. "Not exactly Goth."

Her eyes left his face and looked downwards. She removed her right hand from her face and rubbed her other shoulder self consciously before turning her body back towards the counter and crossing her legs. "It's a long story." She concluded softly.

"Oh," Eric said awkwardly, picking his spoon back up and finishing off the last remaining ice cream inside the bowl. Amazingly, the usual sadness that consumed his body after he finished his ice cream surprisingly did not return on this particular day. Today, ice cream was not his only companion.

"Aren't you going to ask what it is?" She wondered aloud.

"I just don't really care." He admitted bluntly. Henrietta's eyes sparkled.

"When I was really little, my dad was everything to me." She told him. "He would always buy me those éclair pastry things. They were just really, really good and we'd always have fun eating them together." Her voice cracked noticeably. "He died a few years ago. This ice cream just reminds me of éclairs.. And of him."

"I'm sorry," Eric said, pushing his bowl of ice cream away. "My dad died too."

Henrietta's dark, soulless eyes met the auburn ones with disbelief. "Really? How?"

Eric shifted awkwardly. "Uh, it's not important.." He concluded, his voice trailing off. "But I never knew him. I hate everyone, even my friends. And I feel like maybe, If I ever met him, he'd be the one cool person." Disbelief washed over his body; it was hard to believe he was pouring out his inner most feelings to a girl at his school he barely knew.

"That's how my dad was for me," She admitted. "And now it feels like a part of me is missing and it won't ever come back." Her dark eyes flooded with water, a tear spilling down her plump cheek.

"But maybe I was wrong," Eric said, his eyes growing with concern for his newfound friend.

"Wrong about what?"

"About how nobody else is cool," His pudgy finger wiped off a mascara-dyed tear. He then, for the first time, felt confident. He grabbed her cold, shaking hand and with his other hand placed his ten dollar bill on the counter before leading her out of the store.

"Where are we going?" She questioned him.

"To get some éclairs."

And for the first time in years, Henrietta smiled.


End file.
